


I have far more heart than you my lord, for you have none

by donnawanderedoff



Category: The 100 (TV), kabby - Fandom
Genre: A Brontë inspired Kabby au, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Friendship, Gothic/Romantic era, Period Typical Attitudes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2018-10-11 04:17:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10454769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donnawanderedoff/pseuds/donnawanderedoff
Summary: Northern England 1874 - Baroness Abigail Griffin, the widow of the late Baron Jacob Griffin, receives four years after her husband's death an alarming letter. His Lord the Duke of Eden and newly retired captain of the Royal Navy, Marcus Kane, has returned to Sunderland and he has grand plans for the school the Baroness runs, namely remodelling the building into separate apartments. Threatened with the prospect of losing her mother's legacy, Abigail sees no other option than to travel to Eden and demand an audience with the cold-hearted yet handsome Duke. Will the baroness succeed in her mission or will she end up losing the last thing she has of her mother?It's a tale of heartache, family, unlikely friendships and turbulent romance.AKA an AU Kabby period drama inspired by the Brontë sisters you never knew you wanted until now ^^





	1. A troublesome and live changing letter

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I finally decided to write this story. I'd been toying with the idea of writing something Brontë-inspired for Kabby for quite some time now but I never seemed to find the time or inspiration but here it finally is. MY FIRST PERIOD KABBY AU ^^ I'm so excited you guys and I can't wait for you all to read it!
> 
> The chapters will all be relatively long (well long for me anyway) so I won't be able to promise weekly updates, it'll probably be a chapter every three weeks so please bear with me!
> 
> Also special thanks to Romana (catalan1) for proofreading this, you're a sweetheart! x
> 
> List of characters:
> 
> Abigail Griffin, baroness of Arkadia Park - mother of Clarke Griffin  
> Jacob Griffin, the late baron of Arkadia Park  
> Marcus Kane, Duke of Eden and retired captain of the Royal Navy - guardian of Bellamy and Octavia Blake  
> Aurora Blake, the late niece of Marcus Kane and mother of Bellamy and Octavia Blake  
> Vera Kane, the Duchess of Eden  
> Lady Diana Sydney  
> Cage Wallace, the Earl of Mt. Weather  
> Mr. Collins, business associate of the late Baron Jacob Griffin  
> Eric Jackson, the local doctor  
> Charles Pike, an American soldier
> 
> Callie Cartwig - Baroness Griffin's housekeeper  
> Jacapo Sinclair - Baroness Griffin's butler  
> Raven Reyes - Baroness Griffin's and little Clarke's lady's maid  
> Zoe Monroe and Harper McIntyre - Baroness Griffin's chamber maids  
> Lincoln - Baroness Griffin's stable master  
>    
> Thelonius Jaha - Duke Kane's butler  
> John Murphy - Duke Kane's valet  
> Jasper Jordan - Duke Kane's stable master

For six years, the Baron and Baroness Griffin, together with their little girl Clarke, had been a happy and loving family. Thanks to the Baroness’ many talents, she had managed to transform the Griffin estate, Arkadia Park, into a warm and inviting family home. The parents doted on their daughter, a cheerful child with golden curls, a pair of bright blue eyes that were almost an identical copy of her father’s, and a smile, which the Baroness teasingly described to her husband, as one that would surely break more than one young man’s heart when she grew up.

Life had been good at Arkadia Park. There wasn’t a day that passed without laughter and the servants blessed themselves on being so fortunate in working for a family that obviously loved each other and who were genuinely interested in the well-being of all those who lived and worked on the estate. The Baron often travelled abroad for business purposes, but he always quickly returned and never without a gift for his two favourite women in the whole world.

Whatever did the Baroness do while her husband was away you ask? If she had been more like her other female acquaintances, she would have spent her days inviting people for tea, or going from brunch to soirées, while letting a governess raise her daughter. But, dear reader, as you’ll quickly discover, Baroness Abigail Griffin wasn’t your  _typical_ Baroness. No, instead of carelessly squandering time, she played an active role in the upbringing of her daughter while being in charge of the small town school, making her the recipient of more than one sneering jab by several members of Sunderland’s aristocracy.

For you see, Baroness Abigail Griffin, née Abigail Walters, daughter of Thomas Walters, the local doctor, and Elizabeth Walters, a schoolteacher, didn’t grow up among the aristocracy. Her parents owned a modest townhouse not far from her father’s medical practice and the school where her mother both taught and was headmistress. As a child, she would sometimes accompany her father during his rounds, learning how to use a stethoscope, or helping her mother in the classroom, which is where Abigail discovered her love for teaching.  So it wasn’t a total surprise to her parents when she told them she wanted to become a teacher as well.

When her mother passed away only a year after she had become Baroness Griffin, Abigail had used her husband’s connections to buy the school in order to make sure that the local children still had a place to learn. Jacob Griffin had wholeheartedly supported his wife’s decision her compassion for others had been one of the things that made him fall in love with her in the first place. Unfortunately, other members of Sunderland’s riches were less pleased, both with her marriage with Jacob and the notion of a Baroness actually  _working._ But Abigail brushed off any remarks with ease. The knowledge that she was teaching children how to read and write was of greater importance to her than being invited to a formal dinner party.

The Griffin’s couldn’t have been happier and they were extremely grateful for the life they had.

Unfortunately that all changed on that fateful Thursday evening in April, in the year 1870. The Baroness remembers rising from her bed that morning with an uneasy feeling in her stomach. A feeling that had stuck with her for the entirety of the day. It had been some time after dinner when Miss Cartwig, her housekeeper, had come into Clarke’s bedroom where the Baroness had been reading her daughter a story, informing her mistress of a visitor. The Baroness had taken one glance at the pale face of her housekeeper and she had realised that something terrible must have happened. Leaving her daughter behind in the capable hands of Miss Reyes, she had followed Miss Cartwig into the drawing room where Mr. Collins, her husband’s business associate, had informed her that the boat Jacob had been on had been caught unaware by a storm before sinking to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean and unfortunately there had been no survivors.

Abigail doesn’t remember much from that night. Only a feeling of complete numbness and shock. After thanking Mr. Collins for coming over so late and notifying her, she had politely dismissed him before walking back towards her daughter’s room where she had fallen asleep on the bed, her arms wrapped around Clarke, tears rolling down her cheeks and body wracking with sobs.

Going on with her life without her husband had been hard, but the Baroness never gave up. She still had Clarke, her little girl who was more and more turning into the spitting image of her father, a fact that eased the Baroness’ sorrow. At least a part of Jacob would forever live on through their daughter. Having no knowledge of trade and business, she had sold her husband’s share of the company he had owned with Mr. Collins. The sum of money she had received for it had been substantial and secured both her and her daughter’s future, well as enabling her to keep all of her servants.

The school, regrettably, had been registered under her husband’s name, and with his death there was a possibility she could lose it to another buyer. Luckily the Duchess of Eden, Vera Kane, who had always had a soft spot for both Abigail and Clarke, had offered for her son to officially buy the building, with Abigail remaining in full control of everything. It had been an offer the Baroness had gratefully accepted and she would never forget the Duchess’ kindness.

So the years passed at Arkadia Park, the inhabitants of the house all carrying on with their lives, but life at the mansion wasn't the same. Even though the Baroness still remained the same caring and affectionate woman, everybody could see that the sparkle in her eyes was less bright than it had used to be. 

And I can hear you think, dear reader, surely the Baroness has suffered enough already? There must be some form of a happy ending for her. And I can assure you that there most definitely is. Unfortunately, the Baroness is going to have to struggle through some hard times and changes first. Changes that all start with the arrival of a certain letter. 

* * *

A gentle knock on the door of her late husband’s study room, where Abigail had been studying documents and going over bills for the school, pulls her attention from the paperwork.

“Come in,”

With a warm smile, she watches Miss Cartwig entering the room with a bundle of letters in her grasp.

“Ma’am, your mail,”

“Ah yes, thank you Miss Cartwig. You may leave it on my desk,” she kindly replies, before returning her attention to the papers in front of her.

From the corner of her eye, she watches how the letters are placed on the desk, but to the Baroness’ surprise her housekeeper doesn’t leave the room, but rather lingers while standing next to the desk.

Brow furrowed, the Baroness raises her gaze and takes in the rather nervous disposition of Miss Cartwig. Which is unusual because the woman is normally the epitome of calmness.

 “Yes? Was there anything else you needed?,” she politely inquires.

“Oh no, ma’am. Everything is in order”, her housekeeper rushes to reassure her.

“Are you sure Miss Cartwig? Because you’re still standing next to my desk and I’m sure if you keep doing that, you’re going to ruin your dress,” the Baroness dryly comments, and she’s unable to suppress a small smile when the other woman promptly releases the fabric she’s been subconsciously twisting between her fingers.

“It’s just - I didn’t mean to pry ma’am, but when I accepted the letters from the carrier I couldn’t help but notice that there’s a letter from his Lord the Duke of Eden,” Miss Cartwig explains.

At that the Baroness raises an eyebrow, eyeing the letters with renewed interest.  “The Duke? To my knowledge, he is still in America.”

“Apparently he arrived home a week ago. Or at least that’s what Mr. Sinclair has heard during his trip to town this morning.”

“A week? And how come I haven’t been informed of this?,” the Baroness questions, wracking her brain to the last conversation she had with the Duke’s mother, Vera Kane, more than a week ago. The woman hadn’t mentioned that her son was returning home, and the Duchess wasn’t the kind of woman to forget to mention something as important as that.  

“I don’t know, ma’am. It seems that his return was a bit of a surprise to his own home as well. Allegedly the Duchess nearly fainted when her son turned up after being away for nearly four years.”

Concern for the older and kind woman colors her expression. “Is she alright? Was a doctor called?”

Taking notice of the note of worry in her mistress’ voice, Miss Cartwig gives the Baroness a comforting nod, “Oh yes, ma’am. She was only a bit shaken. Especially when he informed her that he had taken two children, under his guardianship.”

“ _Children_?,” the Baroness can’t help but loudly exclaim, a certain degree of disbelief clear in her tone while abruptly rising from her seat.

The notion that the stoic and pragmatic Duke would willingly take children under his guard baffles her mind.  _What on earth had possessed him to do so?_

Realising that she’s standing behind her desk with some papers still clutched in her hands, and most certainly looking slightly absurd, the Baroness clears her throat and quietly settles down into her chair.

“Children you say?,” she softly repeats.

 “Yes ma’am”

“Where did you get all of this information?,” the Baroness inquires.

“Mr Sinclair heard it from Mr. Shumway. Apparently Lady Sydney hadn’t been able to talk about anything else than the return of the Duke,” Miss Cartwig informs her with a small smirk

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. I’m sure that Lady Sydney already has fabricated a reason for her to visit the Duchess at Manor Eden in order to coincidentally come across the Duke,” the Baroness murmurs conspiratorially with a twinkle in her eyes.  

It’s a well-known fact in their town that Lady Diana Sydney had a certain  _interest_ in the Duke or rather his fortune. So far the Duke has never returned any of Diana’s advances which she took as a sign that there still was some hope.

_Ridiculous woman_

“Yes, well, thank you Miss Cartwig. I’ll read the letter right away,” the Baroness states after a couple of seconds, making clear that she would like to be left alone. 

Abigail stares at the bundle of letters lying in the corner of the desk. She can’t help but feel a sense of trepidation. Nothing good has ever come from a letter from our esteemed Duke of Eden. Or any encounter she has ever had with the man for that fact. The Duke had the exceptional capability of being able to get under her skin and aggravating her in mere seconds. Whatever affection she felt for the Duchess, that courtesy didn’t extend to her son.

No, she and the Duke didn’t get along at all. Their last encounter had been a prime example of it. Thinking back to the last time she had laid eyes upon the Duke and remembering the things he had said,  _at her husband’s funeral,_ was enough to make her blood boil once more.

He had the impertinence to imply that she wasn’t suited to run a school since she was merely a teacher. And to add insult he also inquired if she would be able to keep up with the monthly payments for the school. Did she even know how to deal with money? The Duke didn’t add the  _because you’re not used to having such money since you married into the aristocracy,_ but it was heavily implied in his condescending tone. Her emotions had been running high that day and he had managed to rile her up so much that she had basically thrown him out of her home. She can still see the look of absolute shock on his face. Because nobody even  _dreamed_ of addressing him so disrespectfully, but Abigail had just buried an empty casket because her husband’s body hadn’t been found among the wreckage of the ship and her patience was running low. So she had ordered him to leave her house, which he had done without another word. Two days later his mother had informed her that had left with the Royal Navy.

Honestly, to this day Abigail can’t understand how someone as kind and friendly as her late husband ended up being friends with someone like  _Duke Marcus Kane._

But now the Duke was back and the Baroness was dreading whatever was in the letter. Perhaps the letter was merely an invitation to dinner. Not that the Duke was particularly set on maintaining his social relationships, but the Baroness knows that his mother would have insisted on it.

With her heart slightly pounding in her chest, the Baroness picks up the mail and sifts through them until she sees her name written in that unmistakable cursive handwriting. Taking a deep breath, she breaks the seal and her eyes flicker across the paper.

> _Dear Lady Griffin_
> 
> _I do hope that both you and your daughter are well._
> 
> _I’m sure you have already heard about my unannounced return to Sunderland.  With my return to the country, I’m also once more taking up my responsibilities as Duke. My mother has informed me of the arrangement she had made with you concerning the payments of the school in my absence._
> 
> _Unfortunately, I can not condone this arrangement. I know from experience that my mother is a very caring and giving person and in some cases a bit too caring. I would hate for her to be taken advantage of._
> 
> _Let me be clear, I’m not suggesting that you are purposely taking advantage of her kind nature, but even you can’t deny that my mother’s fondness of both you and your daughter might have clouded her judgement and resulted in her being extremely lenient towards you._
> 
> _During my stay in America I got a visit from out mutual acquaintance, the Earl of Mt. Weather, Lord Wallace and he has expressed an interest in the Elizabeth Walters school, namely in the building. He has made me an offer I can’t refuse and I’ve decided to sell the building to the Earl._
> 
> _Now I realise that this is all sudden and I do apologise, but my decision has been made. Earl Wallace’s project is in the best interest of the town and I’m sure you’ll find another building for your little school._
> 
> _Taking into consideration the short notice, I’m giving you until the end of March to move out of the building, so that gives you eight weeks the time, which should be sufficient._
> 
> _Sincerely_
> 
> _His Lord the Duke of Eden, Marcus Kane_

 

The Baroness sits upright in her chair, while wordlessly staring at the piece of paper in front of her. Her eyes skim the letter once more and now the numbness makes way for indignation.

_How dare he?_

Throwing the paper on the desk, she quickly rises from her seat before agitatedly crossing the length of the room, the skirt of her dress rustling over the floor.

The sound of laughter catches her attention and the Baroness turns her gaze towards the window, which looks out over the garden.  With one of her hands pressed against her chest, Abigail watches how Clarke, her precious daughter, is chased by her lady's maid, Miss Reyes. All thoughts of the school and the Duke leave her mind as she observes with a tender smile how carefree and lively Clarke is. After her husband’s death, her daughter and the school had been the only two things that made her get up in the morning.

Losing the school was not an option. Not if she had a say in it. That pompous man could say whatever he wanted, she was not giving up her mother’s school.  Coming to a decision, she purposely strides towards the door and calls out Miss Cartwig.

“Miss Cartwig have Lincoln prepare the carriage and the horses,”

“Yes, ma’am. Where to?”

“To manor Eden. Something important has been brought to my attention and I need a word with the Duke that simply can not wait.”

* * *

Normally while travelling to manor Eden, Abigail would admire the beautiful scenery, she has always loved nature, but during this particular trip it takes all her self-control not to tear the letter which is firmly clenched into her grip apart.

The Baroness understands that by turning up at the manor without any word, she’s breaking protocol and the Duke will no doubt blame her  _lower_ upbringing, but if there’s one thing her parents had taught her was that you should keep fighting for the things you believe in. And she will not lose the school without a fight. Propierty be damned. If the Duke thought that she would just accept his decision, he had seriously underestimated her. She may be a Baroness through marriage, but she definitely wasn’t one of those women who simply followed a man’s orders without voicing an opinion of her own.

In fact, it had been her refusal to do certain things just because a man had told her to do so that had caught Jacob’s interest in the first place. Growing up, he had never come across a woman who had stood up against men and voiced her own opinion as strongly and passionately as Abigail. So when confronted with Abigail who, besides being extremely smart was also beautiful, Jacob couldn’t help but fall in love with her.

Abigail for her part had taken a bit more convincing. Men of Jacob’s social class usually didn’t choose women like her, or at least not for a long time. Their interest usually ended very quickly. But Jacob had insisted that he was being earnest and that if she would allow him, he would like to properly court her. After some pleading on his part, she had finally relented, not that being courted by the handsome Jacob Griffin had been a huge sacrifice on her part. Nonetheless, from the beginning of their courtship, she had made it absolutely clear that if they ended up married, she would continue to teach.

When word had spread that Jacob Griffin, the only child of the Baron and Baroness of Arkadia Park, had intended to marry a teacher, gossip and speculation had run wild. Rumours of her being pregnant out of wedlock were whispered in corners. Others were convinced that she had seduced him and was only interested in his money. Of course, those who knew them or had even seen them in the same room had seen the obvious infatuation and love they had for each other.

She’s so lost in thoughts that the abrupt halt of the carriage startles her. Taking a couple of deep breaths to collect herself, the Baroness awaits before descending from the carriage.

Looking at Eden, she can’t help but be impressed. Every single time she sees the manor it takes her breath away. Unfortunately, this time her reasons for visiting aren’t as pleasant as the previous times.

She had barely left the carriage when a man starts to walk towards her.  

“Ma’am, can I help you?”, he asks with a distinctly American accent.

Abigail doesn’t recognise the man, but figures that he must be the new butler.

 “Yes, my name is Baroness Abigail Griffin and I wish to speak with the Duke.”

“The Duke is currently out riding,” the man brusquely states.

_Looks like the butler’s manners are just like his master’s. Non-existing._

“That won’t be a problem. I’ll just wait inside,” she retorts.

Ignoring the indignant spluttering of the butler, the Baroness turns around and addresses her coachman.

“You may come back in two hours,”

 “Yes, ma’am,” comes the swift reply before giving her a salute and leaving.

Abigail starts to walk towards the entrance, the butler hastily following her.

“My lady, I must insist that you come back another time.”

“That won’t be possible I’m afraid. The matter is quite urgent," she insists while entering the foyer.

 “Ma’am I-," the butler starts again when a voice interrupts.

“Abigail? What a lovely surprise.”

Turning around, Abigail watches the Duchess approach before closing the distance and giving the older woman a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Vera, it’s so nice to see you again,” Abigail warmly greets her.

“You know the lady, Duchess Kane?”, the butler stiffly inquires.

The Duchess scoffs, “Why yes, of course, Mr. Jaha. This is baroness Abigail Griffin, she lives at Arkadia Park. We’ve been friends for some years. Why don’t you fetch us some tea?”

“Yes, ma’am," Mr. Jaha replies while bowing, but not without throwing the Baroness a glare.

“Charming,” Abigail mutters, causing the Duchess to chuckle while linking their arms.

“I admit Mr. Jaha takes some time to get used to but he is very good at his job,” the older woman comments, as they start to walk towards the drawing room.

“How is darling Clarke by the way? It has been simply too long since I’ve seen that delightful child. You must bring her for a visit soon.”

“Clarke is good, thank you for asking Vera. She sends her your love.”

“So what has prompted this surprise but very welcome visit?”, Vera inquires, as they both sit down, a note of curiosity audible in her voice.

Just as Abigail opens her mouth to answer, a maid enters the room with a tray filled with tea and scones.

Both women keep quiet while the tea’s being poured and the scones are placed on a nearby table. 

Picking up her cup, Abigail directs her gaze towards the Duchess.

“I’m actually here to talk to the Duke.”

“My son? Whatever for? Is there something wrong with the school?,” Vera quickly replies, her expression changing into one of worry.

“Forgive me, but aren’t you aware of the letter he mailed me?,” she hesitantly asks.

“No, I don’t know of any letter.”

“Ah, that’s unfortunate”, she mutters under her breath, but clearly she isn’t quiet enough because the Duchess picks it up.

“How is that unfortunate? What did the letter say?”

She doesn’t want to burden Vera with the content of the letter, “Oh, it’s nothing too serious Vera. The Duke merely wanted to go over some minor details now that he’s back in Sunderland,” Abigail replies, hoping to sound reassuring.

The Duchess doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but she doesn’t push for which Abigail is grateful.

“So you must be happy that your son has returned,” she says while taking a sip of her tea.

A fond smile appears on the older woman’s face. “I am, even if it was unexpected.”

As a comfortable silence falls between them, Abigail can feel a question burn on the tip of her tongue. After a couple of seconds, her curiosity can no longer be contained.

“I’ve also been informed that the Duke didn’t return from America alone.”

When the Duchess merely gives her an amused look, Abigail can feel her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to pry," she stammers, but the Duchess shakes her head.

“Nonsense Abigail. It’s only natural that you’re curious,” Vera comments, “I don’t know if you ever met my niece Aurora Kane? She married an American businessman before moving to New York.”

 “I don’t think I ever had the pleasure of meeting her,” Abigail admits.

“She was a lovely girl but she did always seem to get into trouble. I was never too fond of her husband, but she loved him and that’s more than can be said of other marriages. But, sadly both she and her husband died in an accident three months ago, leaving behind their two children, Bellamy and Octavia.”

“Oh, Vera, I’m so sorry," Abigail softly utters.

The Duchess accepts her condolences with a small but grateful nod, “Thank you, dear.”

“Their grandparents on their father’s side are too old to take care of two children and since they don’t have any other relatives in America, Marcus settled the papers and became their legal guardian. Which is why I was so surprised by his return. I wasn’t expecting them so soon. I thought that the paperwork would take longer.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how are the children?”

“Well, as you can imagine they aren’t very talkative. Octavia is still little so I don’t think she even fully understands what has happened, but Bellamy tries to act tough. Luckily both of them have taken a shine to Marcus which warms my heart,” the Duchess admits with a small smile.

The notion that children would actually _enjoy_ spending time with the cold Duke sounds absurd to Abigail’s ears. Especially after reading his letter. Not wanting to hurt to older woman’s feeling, she makes a non-committal noise while taking another sip from her tea.

“The place must feel more lively with not only your son back, but also two children,” Abigail implores.

“Oh, most definitely. We’re still in the process of getting a governess and of course we need to appoint a teacher,” the Duchess agrees, “It’s all a bit chaotic but I honestly don’t mind it. I prefer it to living in this large house by myself.”

“How old are they if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Not at all. Bellamy’s 11 and Octavia’s 5,” Vera replies.

Abigail distinctly remembers how Clarke was when she was five and she’s about to comment on it when the door of the drawing room is thrown open.

“Mother, have you –,” the man starts to say, only to falter when he realises that his mother isn’t alone.

Closing his mouth, he straightens his back and turns his attention on her.

The man standing in front of her looks so vastly different from the severe and pale man she remembers from four years ago. His hair is longer and curly, he’s sporting a beard speckled with grey patches, his face slightly tanned and Abigail feels a flash of heat in her lower stomach.

They both continue to wordlessly stare at each other, without so much as blinking. Both have seemingly forgotten that his mother is still in the room, but the woman in question hasn’t. She’s glancing between the two of them, a knowing smile hidden behind her cup of tea.

“Marcus, I’m sure you still remember Baroness Griffin?”

His mother’s question breaks the trance that had settled over the two of them and the Duke seems to suddenly remember his manners and he bows.   

“How could I ever forget?,” the Duke murmurs, his voice low and gravelly and his gaze intense.

Feeling a blush creeping up, Abigail gives him a small nod, “Duke Kane,”

“To what do we owe your visit, Baroness?,” he politely inquires, sitting down in a chair across from her.

“I’d like to discuss the content of the letter you mailed me,” she replies and at the mention of the letter, his jaw clenches and his expression grows cold and Abigail feels disconcerted at the abrupt change in demeanour. Or how the change makes him look more like the Duke she remembers from four years ago.

“I don’t think that will be necessary. I made myself pretty clear in the letter,” the Duke curtly states, crossing his arms while leaning back in the chair.  

“Oh, but I think it is,” she swiftly retorts, putting down her cup of tea and gazing straight at him.

“Well, if you insist, we can schedule a –,” he starts, but Abigail cuts him off with a wave of her hand, not caring that she’s being rude.

“I’m available right now.”

“How _convenient,_ ” the Duke points out.

Abigail offers him a tight-lipped smile, “I promise it won’t take long. It’s only a _little s_ chool after all.”

By the way his eyes narrowed, Abigail knows that he got her reference by calling her school little.

“Oh, come on Marcus, I’m sure you can spare a few minutes for the Baroness,” the Duchess insists.

Giving his mother a nod, “Alright then. Why don’t we continue this conversation in my office?”

“I would love to,” she agrees, as she rises from her seat, “It was so nice seeing you again Vera”

“You too dear,” the older woman replies while giving her a hug.

“Oh, Marcus. Was there something you wanted to ask me? When you came into the room?,” his mother asks before the both of them can leave.

“Don’t worry about it mother. It can wait. I promise,” he gently reassures her.

Please, if you’ll follow me, Baroness,” The Duke says while gesturing towards the door.

“Thank you, _Duke,_ ” she murmurs before walking passed him.

Her emphasis on his title doesn’t go unnoticed by the momentary tightening of his hands and the Baroness is barely able to suppress a smirk. It may have been four years, but she’s still able to get under his skin.

_Good. He has to realise that I won’t give up on my school that easily._


	2. I do not think sire, you have any right to command me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay I know I said that there wouldn't be weekly updates and please don't get used to it but I did have two weeks off so I had the time. And honestly, I'm so excited about this story and I just want to share it with you guys!
> 
> Included in this chapter: TENSION TENSION TENSION
> 
> Also I may have included something from our convos on Slack. Cookies/biscuits to those who find it!
> 
> Thanks again to Romana, you are a sweetheart!!

The short walk from the drawing room to the Duke’s office passes in complete silence. Neither the Duke or the Baroness are in general keen on small talk. Not to mention that the things they wish to discuss are of great importance and can’t be uttered among the corridors. During the walk, Abigail can’t help but let her gaze wander as she takes in the splendour of the manor, particularly since she has never been in this part of the estate before. When they arrive at his office, the Duke cordially opens the door and lets her set foot first into the office.

Entering the room, Abigail can’t stifle the small gasp that leaves her mouth at the view. The office is located in the right wing of the estate and it’s placed just so that the windows oversee the gardens and the pond. The setting sun bathes the room in a soft glow.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the Duke softly utters as he comes to a halt next to her.

“Yes. It certainly is,” she agrees, her awe at the stunning tableau in front of her, apparent in her voice.

“Sometimes I find myself staring at the view, being so completely mesmerised by it that I forget to get any actual work done,” he admits, his expression soft and Abigail finds herself captivated by the gentle look on his face.

“Well, with a view like that, nobody can honestly blame you,” she offers, a small smile appearing on her face when he turns his attention towards her.

The Duke holds her gaze with his own, and as Abigail feels her cheeks starting to flush, she momentary averts her eyes and breaks the silence,

“I’d like to discuss the letter you sent if you don’t mind”, she declares and just like earlier in the drawing room at the mention of the letter, his expression grows cold and Abigail is amazed by the rapid change in his demeanour. It was as if she was talking to two separate people. There was the aloof and strict Duke, who was currently looking at her and the softer and more amiable Marcus, who had surfaced earlier while conversing with his mother and just some seconds earlier when he’d been talking about the beauty of the gardens.   

“As I mentioned in the drawing room, I do believe that I made myself perfectly clear in the letter. My decision has been made,” he states as he takes a seat behind his desk while gesturing for her to sit down as well.

“Forgive me for being so blunt, but I simply cannot accept your decision,” she retorts after taking a seat as well.

“After my husband’s death -,” she continues, her voice trembling slightly and she hates that she’s showing weakness in front of him, “we came to an agreement that I would remain in full control of the school. As headmistress of the Elizabeth Walters school, I simply can’t condone using the building as a real estate project. Furthermore, if you had ever bothered with reading the letters I sent you about this you would have known that the Earl had already proposed the same deal to me and I have declined his offer, on several occasions. Additionally, it’s simply unacceptable that you would sell the school without my consent.”

“You may have been in control of the teachers and the pupils, but may I remind you that I bought the building? And that the school’s registered under my name? As for your correspondence, I have never received any letters, but even if I had, I fail to see why I should have contacted you,” the Duke calmly proclaims.

“The agreement I had with the Duchess-,” Abigail starts, not planning on giving up so easily, but that’s without taking the Duke into consideration because he efficiently cuts her off.

“Is no longer of  importance.”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t simply decide that without taking me into deliberation,” she insists, as her irritation at his stubbornness starts to rise.

“Ah, but you see Baroness, that’s where you’re wrong. I most certainly can and I have,” he claims while leaning forward on his desk, giving her a piercing stare.

Abigail can feel the anger building inside of her, but she tries to restrain herself by firmly clasping her hands together while placing them in her lap.

“I sincerely urge you to reconsider my lord for the reason that it’s the only school in town and it also has an extensive history,” she pleads.

“That history will still remain after I sell it to the Earl. He has promised me that the building won’t be taken down, only modified. As for your pupils, they can easily go to the school in the next town,” the Duke nonchalantly puts forward, acting as if his plan on selling the school and letting children travel several miles almost every single day was a minor inconvenience.

Abigail furrows her brows, “The school in the next town?”

“That’s miles away. Most of my students aren’t able to travel to the next town. You know who my pupils are and you know their backgrounds. They aren’t wealthy, their parents aren’t aristocrats or even middle class. They don’t have the financial means to travel several times a week. Some of them have to help their parents on their land or in their shop. Selling the school would be the end of their education. Not only that, but you’re also robbing future children of their chance of learning how to read, write and so many other things.”

“If they really want to learn, they’ll make the effort,” he retorts with an almost imperceptible shrug of his shoulder and it’s this almost indifference of his that angers the Baroness.

_How can he not understand that not everybody was born into a wealthy family?_

“This is not a matter of effort or lack of motivation.  This is purely a problem of our society, and to be precise, of the different social standings in our society. Education shouldn’t be a privilege that is reserved for only those with the financial means. Every child, no matter their social class, gender or ethnicity, deserves the right to learn.”

“That’s a very noble thought of you Lady Griffin, but it’s simply not feasible,” he reasons, even though it’s clear from the tone of his voice that he finds her suggestion that etveryone should deserve an education, a ridiculous one.

“Perhaps not at the moment. But keeping the school open would definitely be a start. And I am willing to fight for it. Fight for my students.”, she challenges him, the passion audible in her voice.

“Fight whom? Me? Please, my Lady. The decision has already been made. The contract is being drawn up as we speak,” he points out, a hint of a conceited smirk playing on his lips and the sight of it makes her clench her jaw.

“But it hasn’t been signed yet, which means that there’s still some time. Why don’t you visit the school? So you can see for yourself the work the teachers are achieving with our pupils,” Abigail is quick to counter.

“Observing a group of children doing math isn’t going to change my mind.”

“We’re doing so much more than that. Besides, how would you even know? Have you ever set a foot in the school?”

“No. But I fail to see how –,” the Duke starts, sounding frustrated by her refusal to simply accept his decision.

“Then you can’t possibly understand the importance of the school for the community. We’re providing these children with options, ones they didn’t have before. We’re giving them the opportunity to perhaps strive for things and jobs beyond what their parents are able to do. I’ve watched my pupils flourishing and doing things they never thought they would ever be able to do. Under the care of the teachers, I’ve seen children discover talents they wouldn't ever have found if it weren’t for the school. I’ve watched them grow into confident and capable young men and women,” she elaborates, her eyes flashing with intensity while her voice softens with affection at the recollection of all the things her pupils have achieved.

“And that’s very admirable of you Lady Griffin and your efforts are undoubtedly appreciated, both by your pupils and their families, but in the end, the school still remains my property. The costs of maintaining the building and paying the staff, never mind the other costs are simply far too great. Whereas selling the school to the Earl will do the opposite.”

“So you’re putting making money before the education of countless children? How positively _aristocratic_ of you. When you first entered the drawing room earlier, I admit that for a second I thought that you might have changed. Especially since you now have two children under your guardianship, but thank you for crushing that foolish notion of mine. Obviously, my initial hope was wrong and you haven’t changed. You are still the same cold, arrogant man with a disdain for everyone you deem beneath you as you were four years ago,”  she reprimands, observing with a small degree of satisfaction how his eyes flash with annoyance.

“Lady Griffin, I’d like to make it absolutely clear that I owe you no explanation whatsoever for my actions. The only reason I even permitted this audience was because of my mother’s fondness for both you and your daughter. As for Bellamy and Octavia, I can reassure you that they’ll receive the best education I can find,” the Duke avows with barely repressed irritation.

“Forgive me, sir. Please let me correct my earlier exclamation. You care about certain children’s education, by which I mean that you’re apathetic to the lives of less well off children,”  Abigail taunts, fully realising that she’s pushing her limits but she wants to chip his carefully constructed mask of indifference. Which she, judging by the tight clench of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes, is succeeding in.

“I will not be spoken to like that in my own home. I’ll let it slide because I know how much the school means to you, and out of respect for your house, but you are treading on thin ice Baroness. Choose your remaining words very meticulously. But even you can’t disagree that the Earl’s project will be beneficial for the town. Besides, there surely must be other buildings which are available and where you can relocate the school.”

“Trust me when I say that I’ve been choosing my words very carefully and I shall not apologise for uttering them. Furthermore, I have no need for your respect of my house. Because what good will that respect do if you fail to realise that I’m not one of your servants whom you can boss around Duke. I will not be spoken to in such a condescending manner. But this isn’t about me, this is about the children,” she calmly dictates.

“Please. Don’t insult me. This isn’t about the children, and you know it, Lady Griffin. This is about the building itself and its emotional meaning for you. You don’t want to lose the school where your mother used to teach or the fact that Jacob –,” the Duke starts only to falter.

“No. You don’t get to utter his name,” Abigail hisses, anger and pain lacing her voice, its intensity startling the Duke, who acknowledges her command with a small nod before continuing,

“My point is that the reason why you’re putting up a fight isn’t because of your students. It’s clearly about keeping the building. If this was really about your students you wouldn’t be standing in my office, but you’d be looking for a solution to your problem. Now that being said, I would more than happily help you in your search for a new school building.”

“How dare you?,” the Baroness exclaims while rising from her seat, waves of anger are radiating from her small form.

“How dare you insinuate that I don’t care about those children or their education. Of course, I don’t want to lose the building, you were right about the emotional value, but I would give that building up in a heartbeat if you could reassure me that there was another one available. Because that’s the difference between us, _Your Grace_ , I put people before money or assets,” she fumes, flinching slightly when the Duke forcefully brings his hand down on the desk.

“You’re on once again treading on dangerous territory Lady Griffin”, he firmly warns.  

“So are you, Your Grace”, she retorts, snapping out his title.

“This conversation is done”, the Duke states while rising from his seat.

“Oh, that’s where you are wrong. I’m not nearly finished discussing this.”

“That’s quite unfortunate because I most certainly am,” he replies, his dismissal of her clear in his voice.

“Excellent. Then you can sit down and listen to me,” she orders curtly and to her amazement, the Duke actually sits back down, even though he looks equally surprised by his swift capitulation.”

Taking advantage of his temporary silence, she promptly sits down again before proceeding,

“I have no interest in continuing to argue with you about this, so I’ve got a proposition for you. Your mother has informed me that you’re still in need of a teacher for Bellamy and Octavia, is that correct?”

“Yes, but I don't understand -,”

“I’ll teach them. I have the proper qualifications, and if you want I can show you my references. I’m more than qualified to teach them. And I’ll do it for free, so you don’t have to worry about my wage. All I ask in return is for you to give me eight weeks to convince you about the utmost importance of the school to the community,” Abigail proposes.

“I don’t think that –,” the Duke starts to reply, but at the almost desperate look on Abigail’s face, he falters.

“Please, Marcus. Give me a chance.”

At the sound of his Christian name slipping from between her lips, something he both hasn’t heard in more years than he can count as yearned for probably longer than he feels comfortable admitting, all of the fight and stubbornness drains from him, leaving him amenable and resigned.

“Alright. I’ll give you eight weeks,” he softly agrees.

“Thank you,” Abigail replies with a grateful nod.

“But I do have one condition. During those eight weeks, you’ll be staying here, at Eden manor. I will not have Bellamy and Octavia travelling to Arkadia Park each time for their lessons. They’ve barely grown comfortable with staying with me and my mother. The almost daily journey to another house would be too much too soon,” the Duke explains and Abigail feels herself agreeing with him, even though she’d like to point out the irony of his statement. Because only a couple of minutes ago he proposed that her pupils travelled to the next town for their education, which was a much greater distance than between Eden and Arkadia, but for once she decides not to comment on it.

“What about my daughter? I’m not going to simply leave her for eight weeks,” she asks.

“Doesn’t she have a governess who can take care of her?” comes the swift reply, his gaze slightly confused.

“No. Jacob and I – we made the decision to raise Clarke ourselves. So we never hired a governess,” she explains and she can’t be sure, but she thinks that she spots a flicker of admiration in his eyes. However, before she can further analyse it, he blinks and it’s gone.

“You may bring your daughter with you. How old is she now? She should be about seven no?” he inquires.

“Yes, she’s seven,” Abigail replies, surprise evident in her voice. The fact that he remembered her daughter’s age leaves her bewildered and disoriented. It also makes her heart inexplicable flutter, which makes her feel even more unsettled.

“Her presence at the manor would be good for the both of them, especially for Octavia,” the Duke confesses.

“I’m sure Clarke will be more than happy to make them both feel at ease,” Abigail is quick to reassure him.

At the sight of the grateful smile he bestows on her, she feels the same heart flutter as before. Only now it’s accompanied by a reddening of her cheeks. Her mind is reeling from all the different emotions the man in front of her had managed to elicit in the span of an hour. They continue to silently gaze at each other and the air seems to thicken.

“When do you want me to get started?” Abigail asks after a couple of seconds while averting her eyes briefly to her lap, missing the soft look that flickers over the Duke’s face before he clears his throat.

“Well, since it’s already Thursday and there are still numerous things that need to be done, how about Monday? That’ll give you time to get your things in order and I’ll make sure that your rooms will be ready by then, one for you and one for your daughter. And of course, some quarters for your maids,” the Duke suggests and Abigail finds herself nodding in agreement.

“Monday sounds excellent. As for the school supplies, I’ll have a look at Arkadia and put together a list with the things I’ll need and I’ll have it brought to you,” she proposes.  

“I’ll make sure you’ll have everything you’ll need for your lessons. Perhaps you and Clarke can come around on Sunday in the early evening and we can have dinner together. It would be a nice way for Bellamy and Octavia to get to know the both of you,” he suggests, his gaze wavering slightly to her right at the mention of having dinner together.

“We both would love that,” Abigail assures him and at her confirmation, his posture almost imperceptibly relaxes.

“Wonderful. I’ll let my staff know that you and your daughter will be staying at the manor for an extended period.”

“Thank you.”

The Duke merely gives her a small nod before rising from his chair, “Let me walk you to the front door.”

“Oh no, that’s not necessary. I’m sure I’m able to find it on my own,” she mildly objects.

“Please. It’s no bother at all,” he reassures her and Abigail merely rises from her chair in response, silently accepting his offer.

Just as their previous walk, this one passes in silence, but different from the first one, now their minds are filled with frustration and annoyance, both are feeling befuddled about everything they discussed in his office and they keep sneaking glances at the person who’s walking next to them.

Before Abigail knows it, they’ve reached the entrance. Offering his valet, a young man by the name John Murphy, a curt nod, they both step outside.

“Should I ask Mr. Murphy to have one of my carriages prepared?” the Duke inquiries, but Abigail gives him a small shake of her head.

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you for offering. I’m sure that my carriage will arrive shortly.”

“I’ll wait with you until it arrives, then,” he states and she gives him another thankful nod before directing her gaze in front of her.

The Baroness isn’t sure how long they stand there, staring into the distance without uttering a single word, but she’s acutely aware of his presence next to her. There’s still a respectable distance between them, but the Duke’s standing close enough that she can pick up the subtle aroma of his cologne and the smell of it makes her feel lightheaded.

Before Abigail has the time to properly process the effect the man standing next to her has on her, the sound of hooves hitting pebbles thankfully reverberates through the air and they both observe how the Baroness’ carriage stops in front of them.

“I’ll see you and your daughter on Sunday then?” he asks, to which she smiles and nods her head.

“Excellent. Have a safe ride home Lady Griffin.”

“Thank you,” she softly replies.

For a second, it looks like the Duke wants to say something else, his gaze softens as he takes a small step in her direction, but then  Mr. Jaha calls for his attention and the moment passes.

“Good day,” he mutters as he gently grasps her hand into his and drops a delicate kiss on it before straightening and giving her a curt nod. Without another word, the Duke turns around and purposely starts to walk towards his butler, who’s waiting for his master at the entrance and regarding the Baroness with distrust shining in his eyes.

Abigail stares at the Duke’s retreating form until the valet closes the door behind his back. The skin where his beard had brushed against, is still tingling and she can hear her blood rush in her ears.

“Ma’am?”

The utterance of her title makes her break out of her reverie and she slowly turns around, where Lincoln is observing her, a look of concern visible on his face. “Everything alright ma’am?”

“Of course. Let’s go home,” she proposes, praying that her face doesn’t betray the conflicting emotions she’s currently feeling and offers him a small but sincere smile.

* * *

 At the sight of Arkadia Park, Abigail can’t help but feel a rush of emotions coursing through her body. It has been her home for the past ten years and even though she’s only leaving it for a short period of time, the thought of leaving the house and all of its memories behind breaks her heart a little bit.

After the carriage comes to a halt, she gratefully accepts Mr. Sinclair’s hand while exiting the carriage. Abigail has barely taken three steps towards the entrance when a voice calls out _mama_ and a flash of blonde curls is running towards her.

Kneeling down, she opens her arms and Clarke enthusiastically jumps into them, giving her mother a sloppy kiss on the cheek before linking her arms behind the Baroness’ neck.

“Hello, darling. Have you been good to Raven?” Abigail softly murmurs into her daughter’s hair before dropping a tender kiss on the top of her head.

She can feel Clarke nod into her neck, “Yes, mama.”

Smiling, the Baroness leans back so she can look her daughter into her eyes. Giving her a tap on the nose, at which Clarke giggles, she brushes back some strands of her hair that had escaped her daughter’s braid, before asking, “Clarke, how would you feel about spending some time with Vera?”

“Will you be coming too?”

“Of course I will, it’ll be like a small vacation. And there will be other children for you to play with,” she softly explains.

“But what if they won’t like me?” Clarke asks in a small voice, her teeth nibbling on her lower lip in a nervous manner.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m sure that they’ll love you and you’ll have lots of fun together. I promise,” Abigail reassures her, chuckling when Clarke gives her a radiant smile in response.

“Okay then,” Clarke replies, breaking out in giggles when her mother starts to tickle her.

“Good. Now, it’s time for your bath,” Abigail informs her, a smile appearing on her face when Clarke scrunches up her nose in response. Her daughter absolutely _hated_ baths.

“If you’re not careful, your nose will stay that way,” she teases, “How about this? You go with Raven to have your bath and I’ll let you have one of Mrs. Reed’s chocolate biscuits,” she continues, letting a soft laugh escape her lips at the way her daughter’s eyes light up in delight.

“I assume that’s a yes”, the Baroness laughs, “Now off you go darling, I’ll see you afterwards”, she ends, pressing a kiss on Clarke’s forehead before nodding towards Miss. Reyes, who swiftly reaches out and takes one of her daughter’s hands into her own before entering the house.

Rising from her crouched position, Abigail addresses her butler,  “Mr Sinclair, I’d like for you to gather everyone in the drawing room in a couple of minutes. I’ve got an announcement to make.”

“Of course, ma’am,” he responds with a respectful nod before making his departure.

* * *

As she enters the room, the entire staff is already present. Giving them all a reassuring smile, Abigail stops in front of them.

“Thank you for joining me. The reason why I called you all in here is because both I and Clarke will be staying at manor Eden for the next eight weeks. I’m sure you’re all aware of the Duke’s return and some of you are probably also informed that he didn’t return from America alone,” she comments, giving her housekeeper fleeting smile and watching how some of the servants start to whisper among themselves,

“Due to circumstances, for which I’m not going to give any further details in respect of the family, the Duke is now the legal guardian of two young children, brother and sister. Since they’ve only just arrived in the country a mere week ago, they’re still in the process of adapting to life at the manor,” she continues,

“Furthermore the Duchess has mentioned that the children are still in need of a teacher and for the time being I’ve offered to teach them until they’ve hired a suitable replacement. Since the children would receive nearly daily lessons, the Duke has ever so kindly offered a room for both me and my daughter in order to make the agreement as comfortable as possible for all parties involved. Of course, there will still be opportunities for us to come back during those eight weeks, but for the majority of the time we’ll be staying at Eden manor.”

“Of course, I realise that with both my daughter and I gone, your tasks will be reduced, but since some of you will be joining us at Eden I’m certain you’ll find ways to occupy yourselves until our return. We’ll be leaving on Sunday afternoon since the Duke has invited Clarke and I for dinner. That’ll be all for now, and I’ll make sure that Miss. Cartwig will inform those who are accompanying me to Eden. Thank you all, everyone except Mr. Sinclair and Miss. Cartwig may leave,” she remarks, and one for one each of the servants bow before leaving the room, quietly talking.

When the room is empty save for her and Mr. Sinclair and Miss. Cartwig, the Baroness continues, “I’m sure I can trust the both of you with looking after the house in my absence.”

Both her housekeeper and butler give her a reassuring nod, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, I realise that we’ll be leaving in only three days, so I’d like would like if you Miss. Cartwig made sure that everything is in order for our departure on Sunday. As in informing those will need to accompany Clarke and I,” the Baroness implores.

“I’ll make sure of it, ma’am,” her housekeeper promises with a small bow before leaving the room.

“As for you Mr. Sinclair, I’m leaving Arkadia Park in your capable hands and I’m convinced that you’ll make sure that everything continues to run smoothly,”

“Of course, ma’am. You have my word,” comes his sincere reply before leaving the room as well.

With a last glance around the room, Abigail takes her leave as well, she still has to write up a list of all the things she’ll need if she wants to start teaching Bellamy and Octavia on Monday.


	3. Hope is a powerful thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you mean it's been 9 months since the last update??? *nervous laughter* 
> 
> I'm so sorry that it took so long, but here it is, chapter 3. I promise the updates won't take this long anymore

The next couple of days passed in a whirlwind of activity. Orders were given and carried out, suitcases were made and before the Baroness knew it, it was already Saturday evening. She had just put her daughter to bed, who was absolutely giddy for their trip, and now the Baroness was wandering around the grounds of Arkadia Park.

For the past ten years this has been her home. This was the place where her and Jacob had been happy and started their family. It’s the house where Clarke had taken her first wobbly steps. Letting out a soft chuckle when she realises she’s on the verge of falling into a wistful disposition, - even though in just eight weeks she’ll be coming back home - Abigail comes to halt in front of one of large windows overlooking the garden. As she gazes outside, she almost absentmindedly starts to fiddle with the chain - carrying Jacob’s wedding ring -  which had been a constant ever since her husband’s death around her neck.

“Ma’am?"

At the sound of footsteps approaching, she turns around and notices Miss Cartwig walking towards her.

"Everything is in order for your and Miss Clarke’s leave tomorrow."

"Thank you."

Miss Cartwig replies with a small smile and a nod. "Are you alright ma'am?"

Abigail offers her a tiny smile, "Just feeling slightly nostalgic I think. Nothing to worry about. This place has been my home for so long that even leaving it for a couple of weeks is unnerving me. I realise that that must sound very silly."

"I don't think you're silly at all ma'am,” her housekeeper is quick to reassure her, her tone genuine and warm.

"Yes well, I think I'm going to do one final walk around the grounds before retiring for the night. I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be emotional and frenzied enough. Goodnight Miss Cartwig.”

"Goodnight ma'am,” the woman replies before leaving her alone to her thoughts.

_It’s just eight weeks. Then she’ll be back. And hopefully she’ll be able to convince the Duke not to sell the school. She simply had to succeed, the local children depended on her._

* * *

The Baroness awakes by the sound of her bedroom door opening and her daughter crawling into bed with her.

"Good morning darling," Abigail greets her little girl, her voice still laced with sleep, but her eyes are smiling.

"Morning mama," Clarke replies before dropping a kiss on her mother's cheek while crawling under the sheets and wrapping her small arms around her neck.

"You're up early," the Baroness softly states as she strokes her daughter’s curls.

"I couldn't sleep anymore more. I'm too excited."

"Oh, why is that? Are we going somewhere?" She inquiries, feigning ignorance.

At her mother’s questioning tone, Clarke leans back and it takes all of the Baroness’ self-control not to break out smiling at the serious frown that’s plastered on her daughter's face.

"We're going to stay with Duchess Vera mama," Clarke slowly explains. As if she’s the grown up and her mother the child.

"Oh is that today?"

"Yes, mama. Did you forget?"

"I guess I did. Thankfully, I've got you to remind me then," she replies with a smile, laughter filling the room as she starts to tickle Clarke.

"Come on darling, let's get dressed so we can get some breakfast"

"Will you help me mama?"

"Of course darling," she replies before pressing a kiss on her daughter's nose, causing her to let out a giggle.

* * *

Breakfast is a short and quiet affair, at least on the Baroness’ end. Clarke however fills the silence with enthusiastic anecdotes of how she went to the stables and said goodbye to her pony but promised to visit as soon as possible.

Before long both the Baroness and her daughter are seated in the carriage and so for the second time in a week, Lady Griffin makes the travel from Arkadia Park to Eden manor. Dissimilar from the first time, she now wasn’t filled with feelings of annoyance or anger, but rather with nerves and a cautious sense of excitement. The fact that her daughter accompanied her this time, talking about all of the games she wanted to teach the other children, helped as well. It both brought a smile to her face as kept her entertained during the journey.

But soon enough, Abigail catches sight of the manor.

"Clarke, look. We’re almost there,” she states while gathering her daughter on her lap and pointing towards the trees surrounding Eden manor. As the carriage rounds the corner and passes through the gates, Clarke’s eyes grow wide at the sight of the manor - as they do every time they visit the Duchess. Arkadia Park is by no means a small home, but the Baroness has to admit that the manor - flanked by large Eden trees - with the large fountain in the middle of the avenue and its double stairway towards the entrance make for a striking and imposing sight.

As the carriage comes closer, Abigail notices a figure waiting for them outside. To her surprise is none other than the Duke. She wouldn’t have thought that he’d be welcoming them personally. Usually these things were done by a valet or even the butler. But then again, as the Baroness recollects her history with him,  the Duke never did entirely abide by society’s rules and etiquette.

At the sight of him standing there, with his hands firmly clasped behind his back, staring intensely at the carriage, some wayward strands of hair moving due to the slight breeze, Abigail feels herself getting nervous. Nervous about the future of the school of course. Because now her eight weeks have officially started.

But dear reader, even though the future of the school does weigh heavily on the Baroness’ shoulders, that does not explain the acceleration of her heart nor the slight tug in her stomach.

Taking a deep breath, Abigail settles Clarke down next to her and closer to the door so her daughter could exit the carriage before her.

"Alright, Clarke. Remember what I taught you about addressing the Duke properly?” She inquiries softly while gently straightening her daughter’s dress and tucking an errand curl behind her ear. Clarke gives her a solemn nod just as the carriage comes to halt.

Once again the Duke takes her surprise when he himself walks towards the carriage, instead of his valet. Opening the door, he kindly offers Clarke his hand, helping her down the step before repeating the motion and offering the Baroness his hand as well. Even though she’s wearing gloves and the contact is brief, it still makes her skin tingle and her eyes flicker towards the Duke’s. He, however, appears unaffected until Abigail notices the way he flexes his hand before taking a step backwards and clearing his throat.

"Good day Lady Griffin, Miss Griffin," he greets them with a respectable nod, his voice calm and polite.

"Very pleased to meet you, Your Grace," Clarke replies with a small nod before curtsying, at which Abigail feels overwhelmed with a sense of pride at how serious and precise her daughter is greeting him, just as they had practiced.

A swift glance towards the man - to gauge his opinion - affirms that her daughter’s cheery disposition had managed to disarm the Duke,  for his eyes soften and a small smile graces his lips.

"The pleasure is all mine Miss Griffin," he states, his tone sincere and serious but then he bows and pretends to take an imaginary hat off, eliciting a soft giggle from her daughter.

The sight causes a small pang of grief to echo through the Baroness’ chest. Because Jacob had passed away when Clarke had still been so little, her daughter’s memories of her father were rather vague. So Clarke never truly experienced how it felt to have a male presence, or a father, in her life. But now, since they’ll be spending several fortnights at Eden manor, the Duke will be a dominant presence in her daughter's life, and knowing how quickly her daughter formed a bond with people, the Baroness hopes that her condition of bringing Clarke along while teaching the Blake children won’t cause more harm than good. For the last thing she wants to achieve is for Clarke to get too attached to the Duke during their stay, only for them to leave in eight weeks and having their interaction twiddle down except for the occasional visit. Or if she fails, and the Duke persists with his plan to sell the school, there would be no interaction, for surely such an action would severe the ties between the Kane and Griffin family to such an extent  that they could never heal again.

The Baroness’ inner turmoil is interrupted when the Duke straightens himself before addressing his butler who has appeared next to him, a scowl firmly in place.

"Mr. Jaha, please make sure that the Baroness' suitcases are brought to her and her daughter’s rooms,” he states before addressing her, “I assume that your staff will be joining us shortly?"

Abby gives him a confirming nod.

“Excellent. I'll make sure that they're well received. Now if you two ladies would please follow me. There are some people who've been eager to see you", he announces. "My mother in particular", he softly adds, a note of affection lacing his voice at the mention of the Duchess.

For all of his many faults, the Baroness couldn’t deny that he did love his mother.

"I hope that the journey wasn't too tiresome?" The Duke asks after offering his arm, which Abigail gladly albeit a bit surprised accepts as they start to make their way towards the manor with Clarke walking in front of them.

"Oh no, I had Clarke to keep me occupied,” she replies with a warm smile, both their eyes following her daughter’s movement.

"She has grown into a fine young lady," he genuinely states, “I see so much of Jacob in her, he would have been proud of what you have achieved with her,” he continues softly before falling silent.

The Baroness is confounded by the declaration, yet again, the man walking next to her had managed to catch her off guard for the third time in merely ten minutes. He sounded so much like the man she used to know, the man she knew since she was a mere young girl. The warm and caring man who loved reading, going on long horse rides and playing the piano. Not the hardened and money driven Duke and Royal Navy Captain he had become.

"Thank you,” Abigail softly whispers after taking a couple of seconds to gather her thoughts and trying to stifle the numerous of emotions coursing through her. To her embarrassment her voice slightly trembles, but even if the man walking beside her notices it, he’s kind enough not to comment on it.

* * *

When they enter the drawing room, Vera immediately rises from her chair, a  warm and welcoming smile on her face. Observing his mother approaches, the Duke releases her arm before giving the two ladies some room.

"So good to see you again Abigail," The Duchess announces while enveloping her in a warm embrace.

“You too Vera.”

"And who is this fine lady?" Vera inquires after leaning away and turning her gaze towards Clarke.

"It's Clarke Griffin, Your Grace," her daughter replies with a little curtesy.

"That simply can’t be. The Clarke I remember is only this - Vera gestures to a couple inches above the ground- tall and you're much taller. You can’t be her,” the older woman announces, her tone disbelieving.

"Oh, But I’ve grown since the last time you saw me. Children do grow Your Grace,” Clarke is quick to offer a reply, much to the amusement of the others present in the room.

Vera chuckles, "They most certainly do my dear.”

As they all settle down, the Duke turns his attention towards his mother.

"Mother where are the children?"

"They were still in the library, but I've already sent Mrs. Morgan to get them,” Vera replies before addressing Abby. "You can’t imagine how pleasantly surprised I was when my son informed me that you volunteered to teach Bellamy and Octavia until a more permanent solution can be made.  I'm sure that Marcus has already thanked you but I wanted to do so myself as well.”

Unsure how to properly respond to the Duchess' statement - since she is unclear as in how far she had been informed by her son - Abigail lets her eyes flicker towards the Duke, whom has grown rather tense, confirming her initial thought that he hadn't disclosed the real reason concerning her stay at Eden manor.

Not wanting to cause any tension between the mother and son - especially since said tension could create a negative impact on her objective of remaining in charge of the school - Abigail offers Vera a small smile.

"It was no problem at all Vera, I have always loved teaching," she answers, noticing the way the Duke's shoulders relax, only to tense again when she continues, "Besides I know how important having a good education is."

Before the Duke can retort, the door opens and two children enter the room.

The resemblance between the children and the Duke is striking, from their hair colour to their dark eyes. Without glancing at the other occupants, they promptly make their way over to the Duke with the boy taking a seat on the sofa next to him while the girl crawls onto his lap - arms winding around his neck and face buried in his chest.

The sight both tugs at as warms Abigail’s heart, because even though it's clear that the siblings are still rather apprehensive of their surrounding, they do feel safe around the Duke. And by the way the man lays a comforting hand on Bellamy's shoulder while holding Octavia closer, it's obvious that he cares a great deal for them as well.

"It's alright Octavia. This is lady Griffin and her daughter Clarke. Remember, I told you that they will be stay at the manor for a whole. Lady Griffin will be teaching you and your brother. Now what did I tell you both about greeting our guests?" he softly murmurs, his tone soothing and reassuring.

Octavia still clings around his neck, but she does turn her head until she can offer them a small smile. Her brother however, bravely rises before taking a step forward and bowing first to her, then to Clarke.

"Nice to meet you Lady Griffin. And you miss Griffin," he states in a very serious tone for a twelve-year-old.

"Nice to meet you too Bellamy," Abigail replies, "Clarke, what do you say?"

Her daughter curtsies before crossing the room and stopping in front of the Duke and Octavia. The latter whom has watched Clarke approaching through wide eyes.

"Hello Octavia, I'm Clarke. My mama promised me that if you wanted we could visit my pony next weekend. He's back in the stables at my house."

The girls eyes grow even wider, "You have a pony?!"

"I do. His name is Apollo. Would you like to meet him?"

"Can I?" Octavia asks and the Duke regards her with a soft look

"Of course you can."

A dazzling smile appears on the girl's face as she presses a quick kiss against the Duke's cheek before turning her attention back on Clarke. "I'd love to."

"Since it still will be some time before we can visit him, I can show you a drawing of my pony if you want?" Clarke proposes, earning a small nod from Octavia as a reply.

The girl then gingerly climbs of the Duke’s lap before following Clarke towards the book she had brought with her - which is filled with numerous of drawings.

After a reassuring nod from the man sitting next to him, Bellamy follows as well, since he’s rather curious to see the drawing too.

Watching the children interact with a warm smile, the Baroness shifts her gaze back to the Duke, only to be taken aback by the look of pure adoration in his eyes as he observes the children.

Feeling her eyes on him, he turns his head until their gazes lock.

Perhaps there’s still more of the old Marcus in him than she had initially thought, Abigail contemplates while holding his gaze.

After all, as someone who deeply cared for two children he only knew for mere weeks and who took them in, how could that same person take away the future of other children?

* * *

The Baroness has just closed the door to her daughter’s room, where Clarke’s soundly asleep - truly exhausted from the carriage ride and overall excitement of the day. Not to mention from all of the food she had eaten during dinner - when she can hear footsteps approaching.

“I trust that Miss Griffin is resting comfortably?” A familiar voice inquires.

Turning around, Abigail gives the Duke a small nod. “She is, thank you."

He doesn’t offer a reply, but merely nods. A brief silence descends between them, until the Duke clears his throat.

“I hope I’m not intruding, but I was wondering you would like to inspect the classroom in case there’s still something crucial missing? I’ve tried my best to arrange for anything you might possibly need, but I’d like to be absolutely certain everything is in order for Bellamy’s and Octavia’s lessons.”

When she doesn’t immediately reply, he quickly continues, “Or if you preferred to take a look at it first thing tomorrow and retire early today, that would be perfectly acceptable as well. I’m certain today must have been tiresome."

As she observes him and takes in his stance and the twitching of his right hand, he almost appears nervous. Why, Abigail has no idea.

“You’re not intruding at all. And I’d love to see the classroom, I have to admit that I’ve been rather curious about it,” she admits with a small smile.

“Excellent. If you would follow me, it’s not too far from here,” he  informs her while gesturing to her left.

As they start to walk, a silence - but a comfortable one - falls between. True to his word, after a couple of minutes they arrive at two closed doors.

“It’s through here. I do hope that it’ll be sufficient. If there’s anything you need, please let me know,” the Duke says, before opening the door, and gesturing for her to enter the classroom.

Whatever image Abigail might have had about the classroom, the reality exceeded even her wildest dreams. She can barely contain the small gasp of wonder as she tries to take everything in.

How the Duke could possibly describe this as merely sufficient she can not comprehend. The term classroom somehow feels inadequate to describe the space she’s currently in. For it’s entirely possible that this _classroom_ is as big as the town's school building.

Taking another step forwards, Abigail notices that the entire right wall is filled with books, from the ceiling down to the floor. She knew - from numerous visits - that Eden manor has a substantial library at its disposal since the late Duke and both the Duchess and current Duke are avid readers, but these books look brand new.

The books also seem to be categorised into subject manners. There are little cards with titles such as geography, history, literature, biology. Turning her head away from the bookshelves Abigail notices several large maps hanging against the walls and the telescopes standing in front of the large windows.

The whole room is splendid and while the Baroness couldn’t have wished for better material, she can’t help but feel irritated. This must have cost the Duke a substantial amount of money and only two children - and her daughter for a brief period of time - would benefit from it. While the same material would keep her school running for years.

But Abigail decides not to dwell too long on that. This was after all why she was here, namely to convince the Duke that keeping the school was of utmost importance.

Since the Baroness is so engrossed with admiring the room, she fails to notice the way the Duke’s eyes follow her. A sense of accomplishment and hope involuntarily nestles inside his chest at her obvious approval. A sentiment he's quick to stamp down. He did this for Bellamy and Octavia, not to gain the approval of Lady Griffin.

“Can I take it that you approve of the room and its material?" he inquires after a couple of seconds, unable to keep quiet any longer.

Tuning her attention away from the medical texts she had been studying, Abigail gives him a confirming nod.

“This is more than I could have hoped for,” she softly confesses.

At her admission the stubborn flicker of hope ignites once more.

“I’m glad,” he manages to reply, his voice calm, not betraying his inner conflict.

“You really didn’t spare any costs,” she observes and at her tone the Duke can’t help but bristle

“Octavia and Bellamy deserve the best. They’ve been through hard times.”

“I never suggested otherwise. Nor was if my intention to diminish what they’ve been through. I was merely making an observation. They’re your responsibility, not to mention family, of course you would make an effort to help them. I simply wish you would be as generous to other children who depend on you,” she retorts, irritation creeping into her voice.

“Just what are you insinuating Lady Griffin?” The Duke inquiries, his tone hard and jaw clenched.

“That if you showed even a fraction on interest for the children, who are your responsibility since you do own the school - as you so eloquently  emphasised - their education wouldn’t be in danger. But since their parents are working class, and no relation of yours, not to mention that they cost you money, you’re indifferent about their education, never mind their future,” she declares, unable to suppress a note of bitterness.

“Why is it that you’re so eager in trying to portray me as a coldhearted and money driven man?” He inquiries, the look in his eyes is hard and his tone matter-of-factly, but the Baroness hears the underlying note of vulnerability he so desperately tries to hide.

“I think the more pressing question is why _you_ are trying to portray yourself as a coldhearted person? We both know that’s not who you are. That’s not the man I knew and called a friend,” she softly whispers, while taking a step forward, leaving mere inches between them. Her right hand briefly reaches out, as if she wants to touch his arm, only to abandon the thought just before her fingers would make contact with his sleeve.

For a second his eyes soften and his body seems to lean forward, but then he straightens his back and squares his jaw.

“That man was young and naïve and he grew up. I’d advise you to let go of this old _sentiment_ and accept that this is who I am. And may I add that if this is how you’re planning on persuading me not to sell your school to the Earl - by antagonising me -  I’d suggest gaining a new approach because otherwise your little school will be gone in eight weeks.”

The Baroness stifles down the flare of anger which ignites at his words. Taking a deep breath, she tries to calm herself down because she _knows_ what he’s doing. He’s lashing out because she _sees_ him, she sees the man behind the persona of the Duke of Eden, his persona as a retired Naval Captain. She makes him feel vulnerable. So he fights back with cruel words. But she won’t let herself get driven away by them. Not when there’s so much at stake. Or when so many people - _children_ \- are counting on her.

“You’re wrong. I know you’ll do the right thing in the end. Because I know who you are in _here_ ,” Abigail murmurs while moving her hand and letting it rest on top of his heart - welcoming the steady beating of it beneath the palm of her hand. “You’re a good man, no matter how hard you try to hide it.”

“I - ” The Duke starts, his gaze flickering down to his chest. Even though her touch is light, he can feel it burning through his clothing. This is the closest they’ve been - the closest he’d let them be  - in years and its unsettling him. He’s all too aware of _her_ and he can feel himself wanting to give in, give in to those forbidden feelings he had kept hidden for years.

Almost involuntarily his left hand rises, but before it can fulfil its purpose of covering her delicate hand laying on top of his chest, the Duke catches a glimpse of a ring hanging from a silver necklace beneath the collar of her dress.

_Jacob’s ring._

A wave of nausea crashes over him. He can’t do this. He has no right to burden her with his feelings. No right whatsoever. Steeling himself, he takes a step backwards, causing her hand to fall between them. A brief look of pain crosses her face, but then it’s gone and she defiantly tilts her chin. It’s almost as if she’s expecting him to rebuttal her with harsh words. And this reminder that the woman standing in front of him knows him so well, does nothing to diminish his irritation. On the contrary, it only seems to fuel it.

“This conversation is over. I’m sure you’ll be able to locate your room on your own. Goodnight,” the Duke states with a brief nod before brusquely turning around and striding out of the classroom, leaving the Baroness alone and stunned.

“Goodnight,” she manages to whisper after a brief silence, but by then he has already left.

Needing to recollect herself, Abigail settles down on a nearby chair, trying to process what just happened. She’s experiencing conflicted emotions. A part of her felt hopeful, for glimpses of  _her_ Marcus, of the man she knows he can be, shone through, while the other part couldn’t help but be frustrated by the way he retreated into his carefully constructed shell.

No matter how stubborn he was going to be these next couple of weeks, Abigail was certain she could match him. She was not giving up. Not on the local children and her school and whether he liked it or not, she wouldn’t give up on Marcus Kane either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and/or kudos are much appreciated

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and/or kudos are much appreciated


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